Doc: Meet Bob Castellini, die-hard Reds fan

CEO has watched same Reds you have this summer

Aug. 7, 2013

On Wednesday, Reds CEO Bob Castellini enjoyed seeing Jay Bruce's second home run in as many games against the A's. / Enquirer file photo

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At 12:35 Wednesday afternoon, in Suite 210 directly behind home plate – aka the Big Box – Bob Castellini is a little low and wondering. The Big Man has watched the same Reds you have this summer. Just because he owns the team doesn’t immunize him from fan-ly emotions. It makes him more susceptible, in tens of millions of ways.

Lest you interpret that as even a small indictment, Castellini quickly adds, “They’ve done it in the past. I’m fully confident they’ll do it again, on a consistent basis.’’

No more than a minute later, Jay Bruce lashes a two-run homer into the seats in rightfield. Castellini puffs up like a big Irish cloud. “Just as I said that, it happened!’’ he declared. Three batters later, Corky Miller doubles to left. Another run scores.

A little low? No.

“You came in here and talked to a soothsayer!’’ Castellini roars.

He speaks in exclamation points. When he’s pleased, everyone knows it. When he’s miserable, everyone knows that, too. Sometimes, when the Reds are losing, he’ll summon to the Big Box Dr. Tim Kremchek, the club’s medical director, just to have someone to commiserate with.

After Castellini is done watching the Reds, he will turn on the Cardinals game, or the Pirates. He won’t go to bed until both of those teams are done for the night. He took 10 baseball movies with him, on a recent trip to his house in Colorado. He watched eight.

There’s a lot of the Big Man in all of you.

“You’ll always ride the rollercoaster, if you’re a fan,’’ he said Wednesday. “I’m a fan.’’

Even without the cash investment, he’d be in the park or in front of the TV, same as you, prowling and growling around the Big Box – actually a modest space by owner’s box standards – alternately delighting in his team’s successes and wondering what the heck is going on.

You would not have wanted to see him Friday night or Sunday afternoon, when the Cardinals administered harsh beatings to the home team. “Same as I would have eight years ago’’ when he bought the team, Castellini said. His heart has budged not an inch from his sleeve.

You like this, as a fan. You want to know the guy signing the checks is as All In as you are. It’s cut and dried: Does he want to win? Or make money?

Most owners of sports teams make their money elsewhere. Their team is a bauble, a trophy for the ego mantel. They might earn their fortunes in some vital business venture. They want their legacies written by the successes of their sports teams.

Castellini is a little different. His business smarts and drive made him lots of money. Money would never buy him the love of the people around here, in the city he grew up in. Only the Reds could do that.

For Marge Schott, the Reds were a stage for her performances. The team was never about baseball. It was about Marge. For Carl Lindner, the Reds were a civic treasure that needed saving, at least in his mind. For Castellini, the Reds are a challenge and an authentic expression of who he is: Competitive, civic-minded and passionate.

Getting up at 4 a.m.to make the family business thrive isn’t a lot different from taking Lindner’s mediocre clubs and turning them into consistent winners.

“Under no circumstances would I think that these guys do not believe in themselves,’’ he is saying. The Reds have seen a 6-2 lead dwindle to 6-5. The talk centers around the club’s perceived lack of drive, especially of late.

I ask, “If the season ended today, would you be satisfied?’’

Castellini knows it’s a rhetorical question. “I’d tell you after the postseason,’’ he says.

The Reds beat the AL West-leading Oakland A's for the second day in a row. The bullpen was superb, the hitters had a fun day. That doesn’t change the fact that since June 1, the Reds are 29-30. They’re six games out of first place.

Simply making the playoffs wouldn’t satisfy Castellini, because he is a fan and he knows his team is capable of more. We have called this an All In summer. It’s not a term Castellini appreciates. He says every year is All In.

It’s not, though. Not with Baseball’s economics. Not around here.

This was expected to be Cincinnati’s best hardball summer since 1990. If you’re wondering if that’s still to be the case – if you’re prowling and growling across the metaphorical floor – understand you’re not alone.